


The Wonderful Way That You Looked

by happylittlecriss



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-04-09
Packaged: 2018-03-21 23:51:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3707821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happylittlecriss/pseuds/happylittlecriss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Guys and Dolls AU: Blaine is a well-known gambler and Kurt is a religious mission leader. But what happens when Blaine must take Kurt on a date?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wonderful Way That You Looked

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from "If I Were A Bell" from Guys and Dolls.
> 
> first of all a giant hug to my beautiful betas Resh and Maxxy (you guys are the real mvps) <3
> 
> I would like to point out that this fic will largely change a part of Kurt's canon character but it's unavoidable, especially when basing your fic off of Guys and Dolls. 
> 
> If you have never seen Guys and Dolls then you really won't be affected but some of the songs correlate to parts of the fic. Just be aware of that.
> 
> Lastly, enjoy :)

Sam is low on money.

 

He knows it. It’s not like he’s trying to hide it. It all started about a year ago when he was dragged to his friend’s crap game. It didn’t seem very fun at first. But now he’s here.

 

And “here” is not a very good place to be. All his friends are depending on him to buy the downtown parlor for their biggest crap game yet, but Sam is low on money. He sighs because there’s really only one solution left.

 

Blaine Anderson.

 

Blaine Anderson is one of the toughest swindlers in the world. He will make bets upon bets and still end up on top. Blaine has managed to swing his way through life with nothing more than a few deals. He’s been around the world and back again and each time he manages to come back with more money than he knows what to do with.

 

Sam isn’t stupid. He knows how far Blaine will go to win a bet. But what other choice does he have? His girlfriend will tie him to the train tracks if he even mentions the crap game, so it seems like Mr. Blaine Anderson is his only choice.

 

Just then, the Save-A-Soul mission passes by causing Sam to roll his eyes instinctively. The band along with the singers proceed through Time Square every hour to preach about gambling and drinking and such and such. No one ever listens to the Hummels talk about sin because the entire town is filled to the brim with sinners. Sam rushes away quickly before he can get trapped by the large parade of people in burgundy costumes.

 

_Follow the fold and stray no more_

_Stray no more, stray no more._

_If you're a sinner and you pray no more_

_Follow, follow, the fold._

 

\---

“Blaine Anderson? Is that you? Finally back from Havana I see. How was it? I can only imagine the dolls they are packing down there,” Mike yells from across the bar.

 

Blaine doesn’t respond. Instead he just walks up and orders a beer. A group of men crowds around him immediately with questions about his bets and all the trips he had taken.

 

“Gentlemen, quiet down! All you need to know is that I intend to play at Sam Evans’ crap game this Saturday.” The men talk just enough for Blaine to sneak away from the bar and over to a small table in the corner.

 

“Blaine Anderson. What’re you doing in little old New York City? I thought you would have found an exotic place to lay down for while,” Sam sits down at the table with his glass, “I also heard you talking about my crap game this weekend. I’m assuming you’re in?”

 

“Well, as long as you don’t screw it up like you did last year, then yeah, you can count me in.” The crowd of men begin surrounding Blaine again just as he empties his beer, “Would you mind if we took this outside? I need some fresh air.” He nearly jumps out of his seat to escape the crowd.

 

Sam follows, but still manages to keep the conversation lively not wanting to miss his opportunity, “So Blaine, still winning all those bets? Raking it in?”

 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that. Although I’m getting pretty rusty. Making deals isn’t exactly the highest of professions.”

 

“Well, how would you feel a out making a bet with me?” Sam can barely get the words out, making a bet with Blaine Anderson is just as idiotic as marrying a doll after two weeks.

 

Blaine keeps his eyes focused in the distance, and seems unaffected. “I’d love to Sam, but we’re friends and I’d never want to ruin that.”

 

“That confident, huh? How about you hear my offer first and then we can discuss the details?” Sam feels his hands shaking, the money is so close. He just needs to speed this up.

 

“I guess so. It wouldn’t hurt,” Blaine replies distractedly. He turns towards Sam, but still seems slightly unfocused.

 

“I bet that you can’t take a guy of my choosing to Havana before midnight tonight.” Sam punctuates his sentence with a nod, making sure that Blaine is hearing every word.

 

Blaine’s ears perk up immediately. “That sounds easy enough. And what exactly are you betting?”

 

“Two grand. Simple as that. So, do we have a deal?” Sam holds out his hand for Blaine to shake.

 

“Sounds good to me,” Blaine shakes Sam’s hand with confidence.

 

Sam smiles a large, devious smile. “Now for me to choose your date.” The music comes right as planned.

_Follow the fold and stray no more_

_Stray no more, stray no more._

_Put down the bottle and we'll say no more_

_Follow, follow, the fold._

“I choose him.” Blaine’s eyes follow where Sam is pointing, and sure enough, his finger is directed right at the leader of the Save-A-Soul mission. Blaine’s confident air drops as the music continues to play. “His name is Kurt Hummel. He is a devoted member of the church along with his father. Oh, and his mission is based solely around saving people from gambling and drinking.” And with that, Sam turns on his heel and walks away, but not before he hears Blaine swearing under his breath.

 

\---

Blaine walks up to the small gathering of the Save-A-Soul mission. He is finally able to see this Kurt Hummel up close and he is taken back. Kurt is gorgeous––with pale skin and piercing blue eyes, like an angel sent from heaven.

 

As Blaine gets closer, he can hear Kurt speaking loudly into a megaphone.

 

“A meeting will be held on Saturday for anyone, and I mean _anyone_ , to come to. The assembly will take place at the Save-A-Soul building which is right down the street on the left. All sinners are welcome to come at 9 and discuss with us their problems. Thank you!” The band immediately begins playing the same song as before, but Blaine barely notices because Kurt is coming right towards him.

 

“Um, uh. Hi. I’m Blaine Anderson and I would love to know more about this assembly,” Blaine quickly recovers from the daze he was in. “I would love to come.”

 

“Oh! Of course! Anyone is welcome to the assembly. Oh! And I’m Kurt Hummel.” Kurt holds out his hand and Blaine quickly shakes it with a wide smile.

 

“So how long have you been working with the mission?”

 

“Almost two years,” Kurt seems surprised by the sudden interest, “It’s been rough, but we’re still here spreading God’s word.”

 

“Good for you. My _abuelita_ used to read my brother and me a passage from Psalms every night.  It’s gotten to the point where sometimes I can’t go to sleep without reading from the Bible.” Kurt can’t help but smile brightly. He easily gets caught up in all his thoughts about this lovely gentleman.

 

“Your 'abuelita' sounds lovely,” Kurt doesn’t mean to sound dreamy, but he really can’t help it.

 

“Oh, she is, very sweet. She calls me her _cariño_ , it means sweetheart or honey,” Blaine’s tongue rolls softly around the Spanish words with a fluidity that is graceful.

 

“That’s precious,” Kurt was distracted by the delicacy and vulnerability of Blaine’s face, “but, um, I should probably get going. The band needs someone to the lead them to the next street.” Kurt starts to walk away towards the group of musicians.

 

“Wait Kurt!” Blaine clears his throat and just decides to go for it, “How would you like to discuss the details of the assembly over a nice dinner?” He adds an extra bright smile in for good measure.

 

Kurt turns around and responds towards the ground, “Oh. I would love to, but the mission is closing soon and I need to make preparations for that.”

 

Blaine’s smile drops quickly and his face crumples with something that resembles concern, “And why would the mission be closing? Your work seems to be really important in the town.”

 

“If only someone would actually attend any of the events! This town is full of gamblers and drunks and people who turn their backs to love. I know we can help them, but we haven’t gotten a decent turnout since our opening. The organizers of the mission are going to be selling the building to a pool hall if we don’t get a roomful of sinners into our meeting!” Kurt’s voice increases until he is practically yelling into Blaine’s face. “Sorry, that’s not your fault. I didn’t mean to shout.” Kurt backs up and straightens his uniform, getting ready to just walk away.

 

“What if I can guarantee you a dozen certified sinners on Saturday? Would that earn me a dinner?” Blaine’s words came out before he could even think.

 

“Sure- I guess but,--”

 

“Well, it’s settled then. A dozen sinners in trade for a date with me,” Blaine speaks fast with a tone in his voice that can only be described as competitive.

 

“Are you trying to gamble with me? Because I do not tolerate gambling. Especially in uniform.” Kurt’s words are precise with a little bit of anger.

 

“It’s not a gamble. It’s more of a tradeoff. So what do you say?”

 

Kurt twists the idea around in his mind. It’s not like Blaine is unattractive or rude. He actually seems genuine with his intentions. And he has perfect manners. “Fine. I’ll go with you. But where exactly are we going?”

 

“Cuba. I’ll arrange all the transportation. You just have to show up. Deal?”

 

“Deal.” And with that Blaine walks away with a smile and a small wave.  Kurt stays planted to the ground as his eyes widen with the realization that he has his first date... In Cuba... With a man. A very intelligent and, well, he’ll just say it-- Blaine is perfect. And for once in his life, Kurt feels a small warmth in his stomach with the idea of a date.

 

\---

“What is in this again?” Kurt asks, genuinely curious. He takes another drink and closes his eyes. It tastes sweet, almost like vanilla.

 

“Oh, you know. Milk and sugar and--other exotic flavorings,” Blaine didn’t mention the alcohol, he didn’t feel the need to. Kurt seemed happy enough.

 

Kurt takes another large sip and finishes off the glass, “You know what they should do with this?” Blaine rests his head on his fist like a curious child, looking at Kurt like he has hung the moon. “They should use this to help children drink milk,” Kurt says loudly and confidently. Blaine snort out a laugh and scrunches his nose.

 

The waitress in a long and colorful dress brings Kurt another glass. “So Kurt, what do you think of Café Havana? Is it everything you had expected?”

 

“I guess so. Although I never really had imagined anything. All I could think about was you.” Kurt sit down his drink and covers his mouth quickly. He feels his face reddening. How had that come out? It’s almost as if he didn’t have any filter at all.

 

Blaine breaks the tension with ease. “Care to dance, _mi maravilloso_?” Blaine stands up with an outstretched hand. Kurt feels himself being pulled up almost through a magnetic force. He had heard Blaine talk to the waiter in Spanish but now that he is calling Kurt a Spanish nickname, everything about the language seems magical.

 

Blaine guides Kurt onto the dancefloor with a steady hand, leading him through the moves. Kurt feels as if he’s floating on air and it’s something he has never felt before. The sudden lightness is enough for Kurt to lean into Blaine’s arms. The two slide across the floor as if they’re made for each other. As if Kurt was supposed to end up in Havana at this very moment in time. The people at the mission would have a fit. But for now, Kurt doesn’t care.

 

\---

As the two walk out of the café, Kurt trips over the curb, but Blaine’s strong arms around him carefully catch him as he stumbles around on the sidewalk, “Are you alright, _angelito_?” And with that Kurt just lets loose.

 

“Am I alright? We’re currently clinging onto each other and you’re asking if I’m alright,” Kurt slurs. “You danced with me like a prince and you’re asking if I’m alright? Blaine, I’m more than alright. I’m elated, wonderful, buzzing with joy. And you’re talking to me in Spanish as if I’m the only man in the world and-”

 

Blaine’s lips are pushing onto Kurt’s, stopping him mid sentence. It surprises Kurt at first, but soon he’s melting into the kiss, feeling a deep warmth. It’s nothing more than a soft kiss, but it sparks something in Kurt nonetheless.

 

“Thanks,” Kurt whispers against Blaine’s cheek.

 

“What are you thanking me for? You’re breathtaking, Kurt and tonight is more than I could ever ask for,” Blaine eyes are searching, pleading for a sign that he didn’t misjudge the situation.

 

“Me too.” And with that, they kiss again, this time with Kurt leading. The passion and intensity is feasible and the air is thick with it. The two pull away, taking deep breaths. They both stand there for an eternity, leaning onto the other.

 

Finally, Blaine breaks the silence unwillingly, “Would you like me to- um- walk you to the plane?”

 

“Yeah. That’d be great, “With a quick smile, Kurt links his arm into Blaine’s and they walk off, all problems disappearing into thin air, even if only for a few minutes.

  
\---


End file.
